


Stormpilot: Drabble Log II

by gmariam19 (gmariam)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Arguing, Clothing Kink, Drabble Collection, FInn's Jacket, Loss, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Poe Dameron's Jacket, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Smoking, speeder bikes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:35:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27636908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gmariam/pseuds/gmariam19
Summary: A second collection of drabbles (600 words and more), most centering around Finn and Poe, usually written for Tumblr. Enjoy!
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Finn
Comments: 31
Kudos: 37





	1. The Cape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the novelization of TROS, there is a line about Poe liking Lando's cape:  
> "That’s our chance,” said Lando. He’d changed his Aki-Aki garb for bright clothing and a knee-length cape. Poe really liked his cape. He’d have to ask about it when all this was over.  
> So naturally, I wrote a drabble about this amazing bit of information regarding Poe's fashion style. First the scarf, then a cape. I love this man, so much I gave him 600 words for his cape instead of 500. Enjoy!

** The Cape **

“I like his cape,” Poe says, out of the blue. Finn smirks into his cup and finishes his drink before he replies.

“Maybe you should get one,” he suggests, turning a snigger into a cough.

“That’s what I was thinking!” Poe exclaims. “I should ask him about it.”

Finn eyes Lando Calrissian’s cape. It’s shiny, and flashy, and completely wrong for Poe. He’d look ridiculous, like the ringmaster from a traveling circus in the Outer Rim.

“You should,” Finn says. “You could totally pull it off.”

Poe eyes him sideways. “How much have you had to drink?” he asks, sounding skeptical.

“You’re the one who wants a cape,” Finn points out. “So probably not as much as you.”

Poe hums and glances back at Lando. “Think he’d let me try it on? Just to see?”

“You could ask him,” Finn tells him, and claps him on the back. “Want another drink?”

Poe nods, and Finn goes to get them two more glasses. Official banquets are not his thing, but maybe if Poe were to wear a cape to the next one, it wouldn’t be so bad.

* * *

“So, what do you think?”

Finn turns to find Poe shutting the door behind him and throwing a cape around his shoulders. It’s a deep blue satin, lined with lighter blue, shiny and flashy and completely wrong for Poe. Finn swallows a laugh and nods.

“Looks good.” It doesn’t. He may as well set up a tent and start selling tickets.

Poe looks at himself, frowning. “I don’t know. Something feels off. I got a new scarf. Do you think it needs a scarf?”

Poe’s new scarf is even more unusual than the one he ruined searching for Exegol. Finn cocks his head, pretending to think about, trying hard not to lose it.

“Sure,” he says. “And then you could wear your new boots.”

Poe’s face lights up. “The boots! You’re a genius! Be right back!”

He runs out as Rey knocks on the door. She watches him go, then turns to Finn with a raised eyebrow.

“What did you do to him?”

* * *

Finn is waiting impatiently for Poe; dinner is in their honor after all, and it was requested that they enter together as co-generals. When he finally comes hurrying around the corner, Poe is cape-less, dressed in formal black instead, complete with a coat and tie, his hair and beard neatly trimmed. He looks good, but also disappointed, and Finn can guess why.

“What happened to the cape?” he asks quietly.

“Jess said I looked like the ringmaster from a traveling circus in the Outer Rim,” Poe grumbles. Finn almost chokes. Poe crosses his arms over his chest. “How come you didn’t say anything?”

Oh, he’s busted. “You liked the cape.”

“Did you?”

“Well…” He stretches it out, and Poe sighs.

“So I can’t pull it off. You should have just told me.”

“You can’t pull it off,” Finn says. He glances around and steps closer, taking Poe’s hand. “But right now, you look kriffing amazing in that suit.” He learns forward to kiss him, letting his tongue linger in that way he knows Poe likes. Poe gives him a thoughtful look.

“I bet you could pull it off,” he says. He lowers his voice. “You owe me.”

“For what?”  
  
“You didn’t tell me how it really looked.” Poe waits, and Finn nods in agreement. “So how about you wear it later? Just for me?”

“Seriously?” Finn asks, but the look on Poe’s face is intriguing. “What is it with you and capes?”

“I don’t know,” Poe replies. “But let’s find out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previously a part of Drabble Log I, I moved it here to start a new collection of slightly longer drabbles. Because I'm funny like that. :)


	2. The Jacket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loosely inspired by _agrippaspoleto‘s_ post [here](https://agrippaspoleto.tumblr.com/post/634344977810456576/hey-buddy-buddy-seriously-how-long-have-we). When I saw Finn wearing Poe’s old jacket, I immediately assumed and wondered how Poe got him a new one at some point! So here is that drabble, although the jacket is not actually same as Poe’s old jacket, but the one Finn wears in TROS. I hope you don’t mind and enjoy! :)  
> PS. 600 words - can’t seem to get back to my old 500 word drabbles! Oh well!

**The Jacket**

Poe can’t help but watch Finn, a lot. He’s drawn to the other man, fascinated by this former Stormtrooper who not only left the First Order, but rescued Poe on his way out, and then decided to stick around and help them. Finn is a beautiful contradiction, a man raised to fight, and yet with a heart so big it sometimes makes Poe’s own heart skip a beat.

He watches the way Finn moves, the way he smiles, the way he makes the most of every moment of his new-found freedom. And he watches as Finn frequently fusses with his jacket—something they’d found on the _Falcon_ —before he finally asks what’s wrong.

“it’s stupid,” Finn says.

“It’s not stupid,” Poe tells him. “If something’s bothering you, you have every right to feel that way. And to say something.”

Finn nods. “I know, but I’m still getting used to that. The First Order wasn’t big on personal expression.”

“It’s not like that here,” Poe insists. “So what’s wrong?”

After a moment, Finn tells him. “It’s the jacket.”

“I figured,” Poe says. “Does it not fit? Is it uncomfortable? We can find you something else—”

“No, that’s not it, and that’s the problem.”

“I don’t follow.”

Finn shrugs self-consciously. “It’d be one thing if it didn’t fit. Then I could get another. But…it doesn’t feel like I should be wearing it. It probably belonged to a dead man. And it’s not the jacket you gave me.”

“Oh.” Poe ducks his head so that Finn doesn’t see his crooked smile. There is something about Finn missing Poe’s jacket that makes his heart happy. “Well, um…”

Finn waves him off. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll get used to it, or I’ll earn enough credits and buy one of my own someday.”

Poe ends up making a detour on his next mission, stopping at the open-air market of a nearby spaceport. When he doesn’t find what he’s looking for, he makes a quick jump to another, and then another. Before he knows it, he’s several hours late returning to Ajan Kloss and gets an earful from Leia. He didn’t even find what he wanted.

A few weeks later, he’s picking up supplies on Ord Mantell with Snap and ducks into a local shop. He finds the closest one he’s seen yet—similar cut, the same brown leather, blue patches instead of red. It looks well-worn and comfortable, a little short for Finn, but otherwise perfect.

Poe grabs it, pays too much for it, and ignores Snap’s teasing.

Finn frowns when he opens the clumsily wrapped gift. He holds it up, runs a hand along the soft leather, doesn’t say a word. Poe starts to worry. “It’s—”

“A jacket,” Finn finishes, pulling it on. He grins. “I know.”

“Well, you didn’t like the other one, so I was kind of thinking—”

“Thank you,” Finn says, and he steps forward to pull Poe into a warm embrace. “It’s perfect. It’s like your old one, but different enough to be mine. I wish I could repay you for it.”

Poe shakes his head and steps back. “Don’t worry about it, buddy. I saw it and thought of you.”

Finn raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Fine, I was keeping an eye out. So don’t lose it on a Star Destroyer this time.”

Finn smiles and thanks him again, and Poe ignores the warm feeling in his chest. If both sleeves end up burned off a month later, that’s okay. It makes a good-looking vest, too, and Poe is just glad Finn is happy. It suits him.


	3. Lucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because I once said I would, so I did.  
> Fortunately, it's a short one: 300 words.  
> Enjoy - someday I may write more of these little ones!

** Lucky **

You are the luckiest soul in the galaxy.

You came from nothing, from a small trading outpost on the outskirts of the Outer Rim. You were battered and worn by the summer sun and heat, passed over again and again. Yet you managed to get someone’s attention, even if it was someone who grabbed you on a whim and flung you over their shoulder. You didn’t mind: you escaped, you got to fly, to see the galaxy.

Yes, you were tucked away, dark and lonely, but when he needed you, you were there. You traveled. You comforted and cheered. You protected him, during the day and at night, in the heat of the dessert and the cold of deep snows. You loved, and perhaps were even loved in return.

Something is different now, though. You sense his anxiety, his worry; this trip is not like the others. You also sense someone else watching, wondering about you. But they seem to like you, and him, and though they are at times confusing, you like them. Especially when they, too, are protective and comforting.

Too soon you are called to another role, more than comfort, than protection. You are called on for healing, for soothing. And you rise to the occasion, relishing your new role in the universe, not caring what it does to you—the pain, the blood, the rips and tears.

You were meant to be there for him, and some part of you will always be there with him even when you are gone. You love him, and you know now that deep down he loves you. Because you are soft and yet bold, and beautiful, inside and out. You will live forever in his memory, and the galaxy itself will remember you forever.

You are Poe Dameron’s scarf.


	4. We Can Continue That Discussion Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr, this one is 600 words and inspired by Finn’s first line. Not sure what I think about it now, but it's fun to explore the possibilities!

** We Can Continue That Discussion Later **

Finn shakes his finger in Poe’s face. “I am so pissed at you, I don’t know whether to punch you or kiss you right now!” He turns away so he doesn’t do either; the situation is bad enough.

“How about neither,” Poe snaps back. “I’m so mad I can’t even look at you, so go sulk in a corner.”

Finn whirls and walks right back into Poe’s space, smirking. “ _You’re_ mad? That’s rich, since It’s _your_ fault we’re in here! Got any bright ideas for getting out?”

“It’s _your_ fault we even came to this rat-infested hellhole of a planet in the first place,” Poe hisses. He finishes tying a makeshift bandage around the blaster wound on his upper arm, pulling the knot tight with his teeth and wincing. He rolls his shoulder a few times, then walks to the door of the dark cell they’re currently occupying with several rats. “And yes, I have some ideas about getting out.”

“Did you get hit harder than I thought?” Finn asks, letting the sarcasm drip heavily. “Because we are underground, locked in a cell, and surrounded by whoever those natives are that are working for the First Order. Even you aren’t that good.”

Poe glares at him over his shoulder. “Kriff off,” he says, his tone more exasperated now than angry. “And next time? Take someone else on your half-assed quest to find other troopers who’ve left the Order. There aren’t any.”

“You don’t know that,” Finn replies sullenly, and this time Poe turns and shakes a finger in Finn’s face.

“I do know that,” Poe bursts out, loud and agitated. “You are the _only_ one, Finn. It’s a goddam miracle, if we’re being real. I don’t know how you did it and I thank the Force every day that you did, but there’s no one else. There’s no one else in the galaxy as _good_ as you, which is why we’re never going to find more.”

Finn feels like he’s been punched in the gut with the truth, and yet Poe’s words also light him on fire in an unexpected way. He steps forward, adrenaline lending him reckless confidence. “You think I’m good? I brought us to this rat-infested hellhole and you thank the Force for me?”

Poe narrows his eyes. “I’m not thanking anyone right now,” he says, but he sounds less angry and more tired now. “I’m just trying to get us out of here so we never have to do this again.”

“Do what?” Finn asks. He’s almost toe-to-toe with Poe, who hasn’t backed down, though Finn can’t quite read him. “Get shot? Get caught? Fight about it?”

“I’m not doing it again, Finn,” Poe says, firm and defiant. Finn smirks again.

“Fine,” he says. “But what about this?” He grabs the back of Poe’s neck and pulls him forward into a bruising kiss. Poe gasps into it, eyes wide, and then steps forward, locking his arms around Finn’s waist and roughly pulling him close. Their noses bump and their tongues tangle, and there is definitely some biting. Too soon, Poe pulls away, breathless.

“That, I’ll do again,” he says, turning toward the door with an expectant look. “But first, we get out of here.”

The door bursts open, and BB-8 is there with Rey and Chewbacca, whistling shrilly. Poe grins over his shoulder, and Finn rolls his eyes. “I hate you,” he mutters.

“I don’t think so,” Poe murmurs back. “But we can continue that discussion later.”

Finn follows him out, taking a moment to enjoy the view, and looking forward to continuing the discussion later.


	5. Rebuilding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on a very random thought I had about Poe losing everything at D'Qar and/or on the Raddus. Some sadness with a touch of hope - thanks for reading!

**Rebuilding**

Poe is sitting in his new bunk on the _Tantive IV_ , alone in the shadows. It’s their first night on the old ship: Poe now has his own bed to sleep in, his squadron to fly with, and they’re on their way to a remote jungle moon that should work as their new base. Hope is beginning to return to the Resistance, yet Poe feels more lost and alone than ever. 

A bitter laugh escapes his lips, the irony burning in his gut. It’s been weeks since he lost everything to the First Order—all he’s ever owned that he left behind on D’Qar, along with _Black One_ and the few belonging he managed to grab for the evacuation on the _Raddus_. He has nothing but a change of clothes and a small stone he picked up on Crait to remind him of his failures. And BB-8, who left after trying to cheer him up, because Poe just can’t pull himself out of the morass of dark thoughts that plague him every night in the dark.

There is a quiet whistle at the door, and BB-8 comes in, followed by General Organa. Poe jumps up, instinctively standing straight, running a hand through his mussed-up hair, and wishing he’d used the refresher earlier. Wishing a lot of things.

“Uh, General,” he starts, and runs out of things to say.

“At ease, Commander,” she says. BB-8 beeps at her, and Poe frowns.

“I’m fine, buddy,” he tells the little droid. “You shouldn’t be bothering the general.”

“Poe, you look like hell,” she says. “You’re not fine, none of us are.”

“I _will_ be,” he tells her. “Has something happened? I can be ready in—”

“Sit down, Poe,” she tells him, concern laced with the tone of an order. Poe drops to his bed. To his surprise, Leia sits next to him and lays a hand on his knee.

“It’s okay to not be okay,” she says.

“Right back at you,” he murmurs. He lays his hand on top of hers and squeezes tight. She offers him a sad smile.

“I’ve got my old ship back,” she says. “I’m not moping in my room.”

“I’m not moping either,” he replies. “I’m thinking.”

BB-8 offers his opinion on what Poe was thinking about. Poe shakes his head, but Leia nods in understanding.

“He’s right, you know,” she tells him. “We lost so much after D’Qar. But we still have each other.”

He swallows thickly, unable to respond. It was just stuff, and it can be replaced, but it meant something to him—mementos from his childhood, from his home, from friends and lovers—all destroyed. BB-8 trills, rolls backward, and activates his holo-projector.

“What’s up, pal?” Poe asks.

BB-8 shows them a picture of Poe’s pilots, gathered around the fire one night many months ago on D’Qar—Tallie and Paige and Ello Atsy. Then a holo of Han and Chewie on the _Falcon_. Poe’s father. Leia’s brother. Others lost to them, some still flying and fighting at their side. As the holos continue—when did BB-8 take so many?—Poe starts smiling, remembering out loud the moments BB-8 captured for memory. Leia laughs at a holo of Poe and Snap singing and dancing, smiles sadly at another of her and Han, shakes her head when Amilyn Holdo appears.

She’s right: they have lost so much, but they still have each other. And they have their memories. Soon, they will have a home, and more people will come to fight and make sure no one ever loses to the First Order again.

“Thanks, buddy,” Poe says when BB-8 boops sadly that he’s out of holos to share. His voice catches, and he wipes at his eyes before Leia can see him. She squeezes his hand once more before she stands.

“That was perfect, BB-8,” she tells the droid, reaching down to pat his dome. “Thank you so very much.” 

BB-8 whistles proudly, and Poe feels the warmth of hope. He may have lost everything, but he still has Leia, and he still has BB-8. That’s all he needs to win. And when they do, he will start rebuilding, in memory of everything they lost.


	6. Smoking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 800 words, loosely inspired by Oscar Isaac in this post: [Click!](https://my-jacket-suits-you.tumblr.com/post/190409740522/oscar-isaac-photographed-for-details-magazine)

** Smoking **

“Have you seen Poe?” Finn asks Jessika Pava as he glances around the cantina. She rolls her eyes in reply. “I can’t tell if that’s a yes or a no.”

“It’s a yes,” she says, taking a sip of a lurid green drink.They’ve stopped at Felucia for fuel and repairs before heading back to Ajan Kloss. Poe had gone ahead with Snap and Jess to get them rooms, but seems to have left them behind. “Only he’s brooding, so you might want to avoid the area.”

“Brooding?” Finn asks sharply. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine” She shakes her head, then leans closer and lowers her voice. “It’s just been a rough few weeks, and this mission was tough one.” She pauses and looks at him as if he should understand. “So he’s brooding,” she finishes. Another pause. “Outside.”

“I still can’t tell what you’re really saying,” he tells her. “I’m going to find him and see if he’s all right.”

Jess shrugs. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” she calls after him. If Poe is upset, Finn is even more determined to find him. Yes, it’s been a long few weeks, and the mission to Lothal was difficult—there were skirmishes both on the ground and in the air, and they lost a new recruit. Finn knows the other man feels such losses keenly, and hopes Poe isn’t in as bad of shape as Jess seems to think.

He finds Poe in the alley behind the cantina. It’s dark and cold and starting to snow. Poe is standing beneath a burned-out light, leaning against the wall with one leg propped behind him. Snowflakes dot his leather coat and rumpled hair. His head is back, eyes closed, as he blows smoke into the air, a small rolled cigarra pinched casually between his fingers.

“Poe?” Finn asks, unable to keep the surprise from his voice. He’s not sure _why_ he’s surprised…is it because Poe is smoking outside, alone in the dark, or because he looks so damn good doing it? Poe’s eyes slowly flicker open. If Finn was expecting anger or sadness, he sees neither. Just calm as Poe smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that always does things to Finn.

“Hey buddy,” Poe says, and his voice is as relaxed as his smile. He smells nice too, sort of earthy and spicey…oh. That’s what’s going on.

“Spice?” Finn asks, eyebrows raised. “Really?”

Poe shrugs languidly, his body loose. “Rashallo, actually,” he replies. “Just takes the edge off, that’s all.” Poe places the rolled paper between his lips again and inhales. It’s damn near the sexiest thing Finn has ever seen. He steps closer. Poe looks him up and down, meets his eyes. “Want to try?”

Normally Finn would say no, but there’s something about Poe, about the scent, about the dark and the snow, that makes him nod wordlessly. Poe holds out his hand, and Finn takes the cigarra. He inhales, coughs…relaxes almost immediately. Inhales again.

Poe laughs quietly. “Good, huh?”

“Not bad,” Finn agrees, moving closer as he hands it back.

The corners of Poe’s mouth smirk upward, and he takes another hit. His eyes fall to Finn’s lips before he looks up. “So what brings you out here? Kind of cold, after all.”

“I was looking for you, wanted to make sure you were okay,” Finn tells him honestly. “Jess warned me off. Said you were brooding.”

Poe laughs through his nose. “I don’t know if I’m quite to brooding yet,” he admits. “Maybe later.”

“Anything I can do?” Finn asks. Somehow, he’s moved even closer. Poe sets his leg down, stands up straighter.

“Company is nice,” Poe murmurs. He holds out the rashallo, and Finn accepts. He feels loose-limbed and light-headed, but confident and relaxed. And also…well. Poe usually does that to him.

Finn hands the cigarra back and props one hand against the wall beside Poe, leaning in. “I can be company,” he says.

“I do like your company,” Poe replies.Finn murmurs his agreement against Poe’s ear, and the other man shivers. Finn watches as Poe finishes the cigarra and tosses the end on the ground, crushes it with his boot. When he looks up, there are snowflakes on his eyelashes. Finn wants to kiss them off, waits for Poe to turn toward him.

“Your place or mine?” Poe murmurs, and Finn huffs a laugh. “Or right here, in the snow?” He turns his face to the dark sky, the snow melting against his warm skin. Finn wants to lick each and every one, gives in to his impulse and starts trailing kisses along Poe’s neck. Poe hums appreciatively.

“Right here, then,” he says, his eyes slipping closed. Finn grins and pulls him close as the snow slips down around them.


	7. Into The Trees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So after watching those speeder bikes on The Mandalorian, I knew I needed Poe Dameron on a speeder bike. This is that scene in a 700 word drabble. Enjoy!

**Into The Trees**

Poe looks right, then left. Spies two speeder bikes back behind an old building nearby. They’re ancient, old 74-Zs from the Imperial era. Dragging Finn over, he jumps on the first one and starts it easily. Finn stands there, staring at the other bike like it’s a blastail about to bite his balls off.

“Ever rode one?” Poe asks, and Finn shakes his head. “Never mind, hop on behind me. Last place to learn is in the middle of a high-speed getaway.”

Finn frowns. A blaster bolt hits the building and sprays bits of brick all over them. “Gotta go now!” Poe shouts, and Finn jumps on the bike, grabs his waist.

“You ever driven one of these things?” he asks over the roar of the engine.

Poe grins over his shoulder and shakes his head. “Tried every other kind of bike out there, though. These beauties are antiques. Hold on!”

He throws the throttle on full, hits the pedal, and screams out of the alley, across an open field, and toward the green forest outside of town. He shouts with exhilaration at the sheer speed of it, the sense of chaotic power at his fingertips.

It’s so different from being encased in an X-wing. Here, the wind pulls at his clothes and whips through his hair, blowing stinging bits of dirt into his face. He shrugs away a branch that snags on his jacket, narrowly dodges a fallen tree. Whoops again as he floors it and shoots through the underbrush even faster.

“We got company!” Finn shouts. He reaches down to his ankle, comes up with his blaster in one hand, still holding tight with the other.

“How many?” Poe calls, not wanting to risk glancing over his shoulder as the trees grow thicker. They’re as tall and wide as any back on Yavin IV, and Poe concentrates on not crashing headfirst into the gnarled trunks.

“Four in pursuit,” Finn tells him. Which is better than the ten troopers chasing them out of town after they were made by their contact. “How’re we gonna get back to the _Falcon_?” The ship is docked in a landing bay back on the outskirts of town, in exactly the opposite direction from which they are now flying.

“Still thinking about that!” Poe shouts back. “Gonna have to circle around wide, I think. Might be good to take out our followers.”

“Copy that,” Finn replies, and now Poe can hear the grin in the other man’s voice, the excitement. They’re hurtling through the forest on a flying deathtrap, and yet it’s what they do best, isn’t it? Death-defying escapes.

Red fire flies past Poe’s head, and splinters rain down on them as he dodges. There is another, and another, and Poe can hear Finn muttering under his breath as he returns fire. A yelp, and Finn shouts in triumph.

“One down, three to go!” Poe hears the ricochet of blaster fire, feels a glancing hit but no damage, and then another scream. “Two down!”

“Nice job, buddy!” Poe shouts. “What if I take the other two out from behind?”

“How are you going to do that when _they’re_ chasing _us_?”

“Hang on!” Poe shouts, and he flips the reverse, soaring backwards past the two pursuing troopers. Finn is squeezing Poe’s waist so hard he can barely breathe, and he swears virulently when Poe reverses hard again – with the troopers now in front of them.

“Where the hell did you learn to do that?” Finn shouts.

“Leia told me about it once!” Poe shouts back. “Apparently Luke Skywalker used the move on Endor!”

“Brilliant!” Finn raises his blaster and starts firing. Poe does the same with the bike’s blaster cannons, and between them, they finally blow the last two bikes to pieces. Poe takes a wide turn to the left to start back toward their ship. He slows down slightly, but Finn is still clinging to him tight. Poe doesn’t mind.

“That was amazing,” Finn says, right next to Poe’s ear. “You really are the best pilot in the galaxy, aren’t you?”

Poe turns and winks, floors it again, and this time they both whoop with joy as they take off into the trees.


	8. Sneaking Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a short drabble, a way to kick myself into focusing on the end of my big story. It turned out quite a bit longer, though it’s still silly fluff, and I’m still posting it here even though it’s totally not a drabble. Enjoy!

Poe wakes with a start when he realizes he’s not alone. He sits up, looks to his left, and literally falls onto the floor when he tries to stand but ends up tangled in the bedsheets instead.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he mutters, rubbing his neck as he searches frantically for his clothes. Sure, he’s still wearing his shorts, but it’s not enough to make it down the hall to his own quarters without the entire base knowing about it within the hour. And it certainly won’t cover the marks he can still feel smarting on his neck, warm reminders of—

“Shit, shit, shit,” he whispers, rubbing at his skin. He doesn’t have a shirt that will cover his neck, unless he spends the day in his flight suit for no reason. And Pava will be all over him if he does—she’s called him out on it before, after all—so what’s the point? Unless he actually hops in his X-wing and takes off in embarrassment.

He trips pulling on his pants, swears again. Barely manages to get his shirt over his head before he’s pulling on his boots. Glancing at the silent bed, Poe can’t believe he hasn’t woken the entire base. He starts toward the door, desperate to get away and hating himself for it, but what’s he supposed to do? He screwed up—with the one person he wanted more than any other, and the one person he can’t stand to lose. Poe freezes when he senses movement behind him and hears his name.

“Sneaking out already?” Finn asks. He’s sitting up, the sheets falling from his chest as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. Poe turns slowly and grins, knows it’s fake—and that Finn knows it, too. Still, he has to try.

“Uh, thought I’d head back to my quarters to clean up, start the day…” He trails off when Finn gives him that skeptical look, the one that calls his bullshit, the one Poe secretly loves. While the other pilots know him pretty well, Poe is still their commanding officer and can usually get away with it. But somehow Finn _always_ knows, and he always says so. And sometimes Poe is glad, because he doesn’t like bullshitting his way through life all the time.

This is not one of those times.

He runs a hand through his hair. Why is he so nervous? He has _never_ been this nervous with someone before, not even after that threesome in the Academy. He is comfortable with his body, with his friends, with sex…but it’s not that often he has amazing sex with his friends. At least, not his best friends. Casual friends, yes. People he liked, people he enjoyed being with, but people he wouldn’t miss if it didn’t work out. Him and Finn…that’s different. Did he just ruin everything?

“Shit, shit, shit,” he murmurs. Finn stands and moves toward him, like a lothcat stalking its pretty, and Poe steps back, until Finn has him cornered against the door. Which he then locks as if he knows how badly Poe is trying to escape.

“You can shower here,” Finn says, tilting his head with a deliciously suggestive smirk. “With me.”

“Uh,” Poe stammers. “Probably not a good idea.”

“Hm.” Finn nods as if he agrees, though Poe knows him well enough to see that the other man clearly does _not_ agree. “Like last night wasn’t a good idea?” he asks.

Poe groans. “Finn, don’t—”

“Don’t what?” Finn asks. “Don’t bring it up? Don’t let you go? Don’t do this?” He wraps his arms around Poe’s waist and pulls him close; Poe is powerless to resist, even if he wanted to. Finn is strong and warm and—right. Poe was leaving, because this isn’t a good idea.

“Look, I’m sorry if I screwed up trying to leave, but I don’t want to mess things up any more than I already have.” Which barely scratches the surface of what he wants to say, but it’s a start. Finn shakes his head, doesn’t let go.

“Screw up what? What do you think is really going on here?”

Poe wiggles to get free, has to put some effort into it. Finn steps back, crossing his arms over his chest and waiting for an answer. Poe takes a breath, opens his mouth, and tries not to stick his foot in it.

“Finn, you are…you are one of my best friends, one of the most amazing people I know, and I don’t want what happened last night to come between us. To change things, make it awkward being friends and working together.”

“Do you feel awkward?” Finn asks, though he clearly knows the answer.

“Don’t you?” Poe asks. “I mean, we’re—” he gestures between them “—and now we’ve…well. Crossed that line, so to speak.”

“And?”

Poe frowns, wondering if Finn is pretending ignorance on purpose, because he must understand. Finn is one of the most intelligent and empathetic people Poe knows. “And what? See, it’s already awkward! Finn, I don’t want to lose your friendship because we—”

This time Finn frowns. “Why would you lose my friendship? Because we slept together?”

Poe nods wordlessly. Finn narrows his eyes. “You don’t want to be friends anymore, because of last night? Or you think I won’t?”

“I hope you want to stay friends,” Poe tells him fervently. “I don’t want this to change anything.”

“So you’re sneaking out to—what? Avoid talking about it?”

_Shit shit shit_ , Poe thinks in his head. “I panicked, I’m sorry!” His shoulders slump. “And now it’s even more awkward.”

Finn steps closer again. “You know what would make this less awkward?”

“If you let me turn tail and run and then pretend it never happened?” Poe suggests. His tone is light, but he’s completely serious.

“Nice try,” Finn replies. “How about, we _don’t_ ignore it? How about we…you know…try again.”

“Try again?” Poe’s brain short circuits. “What do you mean, try again?” Finn wiggles his eyebrows a little. “Wait, really? But what about…everything else?”

“What about everything else? I don’t even know what everything else is!” Finn blows out a frustrated breath. “Poe, this isn’t going to come between us. Nothing is going to change. Because I’d like to do this again.”

“Right now?” Poe cringes at how ridiculous he sounds, but Finn relaxes and grins.

“If you’re done trying to run out on me, sure. Or tonight. Maybe we could have dinner together?” Poe stares, trying to figure out what’s going on.

“We always eat dinner together.”

Finn shakes he head, looks away before he moves closer, holding out his hand. Poe reaches out automatically to take it, clings to it with something like hope pounding in his chest.

“Look, I don’t know exactly how this works, but what if it was just the two of us for dinner? I could try to find some of that emerald wine you like, maybe you could dig up some dessert. We could find someplace more private…” He trails off, obviously hoping Poe will get it this time. He does.

“You mean, a date?”

“Yes, a date.” Finn’s smile is warm, and Poe feels like melting into it.

“You’re asking me on a date?” he repeats.

“As best as I can in the middle of the jungle,” Finn replies with that dry tone Poe loves, along with the other man’s special looks, not to mention his lips and his eyes and his—

“Seriously? So last night wasn’t a mistake?”

“Poe, why would it be a mistake?” Finn pulls him closer. “Unless you regret it.”

“Buddy, I don’t usually regret things like last night,” Poe tells him. “Except when I’m pretty sure the other person isn’t as interested as I am.”

The smirk reappears. “Interested in what?” Finn steps closer and ducks his head to nip at Poe’s sensitive neck.

“In that date, for one,” Poe murmurs. “And hopefully more. Whatever you’re offering.” He brings Finn’s face up to his. “You must know how I feel by now.”

“Actually, you’re pretty good at holding your cards close,” Finn laughs. “Especially when you try to run like it’s the worst mistake you’ve ever made!”

“Looks like it might be one of the best,” Poe murmurs, then backtracks. “Not a mistake, just the best…well, you know.”

“I think I do.” Finn kisses him, long and slow, and this time Poe does melt into it, wrapping his arms around Finn and holding him tight, reveling in the feeling and knowing it won’t be the last.

“So are you still going to sneak out, or do you want to stay here?” Finn murmurs.

“Oh, I’ll stay.” _Forever,_ he thinks as he follows Finn toward the fresher.

“And that date?” Finn stops and turns to him, waits for his answer.

“What time are you picking me up?” Poe asks, and they laugh, and Finn starts undressing him. They’re really doing this—and Poe wouldn’t change it for the world.

* * *


End file.
